
Dark Matter, by Blake Crouch.
It's hard to be objective when, before you even start a novel, you're convinced by ecstatic critics that you're actually about to enjoy a particularly memorable bag of barbecue chips*, especially when you understand the comparison better and better as you read.
The only problem with this analogy is that when I finish a bag of chips, I don't tend to cry. Nor do I think about it every day of my life afterwards.
Summary
Jason Dessen is a physics professor. When he was younger and his girlfriend became pregnant, he decided to focus on his family and, in doing so, give up his career as a physics researcher. Sometimes he wonders what his life would be like if he had made the opposite choice.
I think I'll stop there in the summary. Let me just tell you that there is quantum mechanics involved, and it works like hell.
Impressions
Blake Crouch does something I hate: he writes in one-sentence paragraphs, short sentences at that. He finds it adds speed to the action, I guess. You manipulator who uses easy, unoriginal strategies to capture the readers' attention.
He forces me through an opening in the brick.
Our light beams sweep across a front office.
Furniture rotted down to the metal frames.
An old water cooler.
The remnant of someone’s campfire.
A shredded sleeping bag.
Used condoms on moldy carpet.
We enter a long corridor.
Without the flashlights, this would be can’t-see-your-hand-in-front-of-your-face dark.
– Dark Matter, Blake Crouch
And you know what? I bought it. It wasn't just that it was impossible to stop the book because there was never a good time, it was that I never felt like stopping. I am someone who likes to sleep and tries to maintain a healthy lifestyle, but for this book I didn't care. It was very late, but I was not sleepy. I kept going, and going, and going, until the end hit me like a hammer. It was beautiful and profound and I cried.
I slept very little that night. But it was worth it.
Si tout ça ne se qualifie pas pour un coup de coeur, je ne sais pas ce qui pourrait l’être.
*I had the same experience with My Year of Rest and Relaxation, and I loved it too. But not as much.

Jos Carbone, by Jacques Benoit
You May Also Like

The Goldfinch, by Donna Tartt
28 August 2022
Half an hour of erotica
15 September 2020